EXILES
by Patcat
Summary: A visit to a bar.
1. Chapter 1

EXILES

Spoilers for PLAYING DEAD at the start

Chapter One

Alex and Bobby watched the uniforms take Councilman Hayes-Fitzgerald and his mother away. Alex vibrated with anger.

"You don't think he'll get away with it, do you?" she asked.

"No," Bobby said. "We have Stacy…" His eyes focused on the young woman. "We have his wife. We have Sophia. We'll soon have the contract killer. He's already been destroyed. I don't think he'll even try to fight."

An elegantly dressed black woman in her late thirties or early forties entered the room. "Detective Goren," she said warmly. "Is that the young woman?" She nodded towards Stacy.

"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds," Bobby said respectfully. "Thank you for coming. She needs a good friend…And I thought of you." He turned to Alex. "Detective Alex Eames…Marian Sojourner Reynolds…"

Alex shook the women's hand.

"A pleasure, Detective Eames. Anyone who's a friend of Bobby Goren is a friend of mine." She smiled, and Alex thought that if anyone could help Stacy, this woman could. "And Bobby and I have known each other long enough that he should call me by my first name."

Bobby smiled. "Ah, but I'm speaking to you in a professional capacity now…Besides…I love to use your full name."

"That is," Alex said. "Quite a name."

"Well, it's mine," Mrs. Reynolds declared. "Well, the last name is my husband's, but I'm proud to carry it. The rest of it is mine. I wasn't going to keep the ridiculous name I got saddled with at birth. I named myself after two strong women."

"Mar and I," Bobby said quietly. "Met when we were kids…"

"Yea…" Marian smiled at Bobby. "We decided we'd either destroy the world or save it…"

"We went with the second option," Bobby said. "Although the people we work for may wonder about that."

"I don't know about that," Alex said. "Seems to me you keep trying to save a lot of the world that doesn't always want or deserve saving."

Bobby's face blushed. "Uh…Mar…Let me introduce you to Stacy…"

"It's good to know you haven't changed, Bobby," Mar smiled. She followed him into the interrogation room.

"So," Alex asked when Bobby returned. "Who is this woman and what does she do?"

"Mar's a psychologist and lawyer," Bobby answered. "She works as a child advocate. I figured Stacy could use her help."

They walked back to their desks.

"How do you know her?" Alex asked as she sat down.

Bobby stared at his computer screen for several seconds.

"Ok," Alex thought. "I've hit a touchy spot…"

"I've known her a long time," Bobby finally said. "Since we were kids." He hesitated. "You know…That…Things were…Chaotic for me…When I was a kid."

"Yea…"

"I…I spent a little time…Just a little…In foster care…And…And I was lucky. They were good places…Mar…She was one of the kids at one of them. And…And we were…We both loved to read and…We promised each other that we wouldn't give up…That we'd do something to help people…And…" He stopped and stared at his desk. "It sounds kinda silly, I guess…"

Alex watched as Mar gently guided Stacy through Major Case. "No," Alex said softly. "It doesn't sound silly at all."

"If anyone can help Stacy, it'll be Mar," Bobby declared. "She's got a fighting chance now."

"Hey," Alex said. "I want…Need…To get out of here…You owe me several margaritas…"

"Several? I don't think I'm ever going to pay off that debt. I wonder if I should even try," Bobby said.

"You have to make at least a token effort," Alex answered evenly. "C'mon, Bobby…It's been a while since we had some down time together."

"We…Uh…Had coffee…"

"Coffee's different…It's a serious and sober drink," Alex stated. "And if you don't want any alcohol, I'll buy you all the soda you can swallow."

Bobby smiled. "And all of them might equal two of those margaritas…"

"Maybe." Alex returned his smile. "But, really, Bobby…I think we could use a couple of hours. And there's a new place I want to try."

Captain Ross approached their desks. "Why are both of you still here? Go…Get out of here…"

"I'm trying to get us both out of here, Captain," Alex said.

"Uh…The paperwork…" Bobby said.

"Can wait," Ross declared. "Besides…The Chief of Detectives will be down soon for an update."

Bobby winced, and Alex snorted.

"And if he sees one or both or you…" Ross shrugged. "I don't think very much paperwork would get done."

Bobby began shutting down his computer. "I guess I'm buying Eames margaritas tonight. Thank you, Captain, for the warning…And trusting us on the case…"

"It's not hard to trust good detectives," Ross answered. "Now get out of here."

"I'm taking Bobby to Logan's new place," Alex said. "So if you need a drink after dealing with the Chief."

"Logan…Logan has a place?" Bobby handed Alex her coat.

"He really doesn't pay attention to office gossip, does he?" Ross smiled. "If you go there, you might see me later…If they'll let a Captain in…"

Alex and Bobby moved quickly through Major Case to the elevators. They had just stepped into a car when the Chief of Detectives, surrounded by several acolytes, passed in front of them. The doors closed before he saw them.

"Whew," Alex said. "Beat a bullet there…"

"We're still in the building," Bobby said warily.

"We'll have to sneak out past the guards," Alex said. "And while you have many gifts, Bobby, sneaking out is not one of them."

She grinned at him, and Bobby felt a great warmth. It was almost like it was before…before everything.

"This bar you mentioned," Bobby asked uneasily. "Logan owns it? And it's a cop bar?"

"Don't worry," Alex said cheerfully. "Other people own part of it and run it. Logan won't poison us."

The elevator reached the first floor, and they nearly ran through the lobby.

"You didn't drive today, did you?" Alex asked once they were safely outside.

"Uh…No…Eames…"

"I didn't either. Got up early enough to catch the subway." Alex waved, and a cab pulled over. Before Bobby could protest, she opened the door and, with a mock bow, waved for him to get in.

Bobby briefly considered scooting over the back seat, opening the other door and fleeing, but but he stayed put while Alex flopped on the seat and gave the address to the driver.

"Eames," Bobby said uneasily. "You said…I'm not worried about Logan…But…You said it was a cop bar…And…And I'm not always welcomed in those places. Even before…And now…"

"This isn't the usual "cop bar", " Alex said. "Any more than you and me and Logan are the usual cops. At least that's what I've been told."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably.

"Hey…I promise…You don't like it…We'll leave…No strings. Besides…Any place that doesn't want you…I don't want to be in…"

Bobby looked out the cab's window. "There must not be many places Alex wants to be in," he thought.

The cab drive wasn't long. Bobby thought they could've walked if the evening was clearer. The cab pulled up in front of a bar located just below street level. The sign over the entrance still glowed with new paint and bore the word, "Exiles". Bobby and Alex stepped from the cab, and before Bobby could reach for his wallet, Alex paid for the cab.

"I'm forcing you into this," Alex said. "I can at least pay for some of it."

They walked down the few steps to the front door. Bobby hesitated. "Uh…I don't know about this, Eames," he said uneasily.

Alex stood in front of the bar's door. "I told you, Bobby…This isn't the usual cop bar…How could it be if Logan has money in it? And with a name like Exiles?"

Bobby shifted from one foot to the other.

"Look," Alex said patiently. "You know we've been looking for a place where you can buy me a margarita and you can have some of that expensive firewater you like, and unwind after a hard case without running into people who don't want to see us and we don't want to see…"

Bobby stared at his feet.

"I can hear you thinking, Bobby," Alex said. "Look, the same people you don't want to deal with…I don't want to deal with them either."

"You…You shouldn't have to worry."

"Bobby Goren." Alex stepped closer to him. "We've talked about this. If it gets uncomfortable, we'll leave."

"Uh…Ok…"

He followed her into the dark bar and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It'd been a long time since he'd been in a bar. Since his encounter with Patrick Copa, Bobby preferred to do his drinking at home and alone. And since his return from the purgatory of his suspension, Bobby tried very hard not to drink at all. He measured some of the progress in the repairing of his relationship with Alex with the number and type of food breaks they took together. They had moved from her not growling at him when he placed coffee on her desk to her occasionally smiling as she left a Coke on his, to hurried lunches shared together to actually leaving One Police Plaze for a quiet bite. But facing Alex with alcohol in their systems and a possible lowering of their guards was something Bobby wasn't quite ready for.

He learned a little about the bar during the cab ride. The main partner in the business was a former cop who'd left the NYPD after an on duty injury. This detective knew Munch from SVU, who apparently had some experience with a bar in Baltimore. Logan found out about the bar from the SVU Captain Don Cragen, who had some connection with Logan. Alex wasn't certain about some of the details, but she did know that the three partners wanted the bar to be a place where those unjustly—at least in the trio's eyes—dismissed or discarded or disdained by the NYPD would be welcome. Bobby wasn't sure if he'd be greeted warmly even at a place with those standards, and he felt badly that Alex would even consider herself in any of those categories.

His eyes adjusted to the light, and Bobby picked up details of the interior. Roughly a dozen booths occupied the wall to Bobby's left. The bar filled the wall to his right. It was well stocked, with at least a half dozen brands of Scotch and an equal number of Irish whiskies. Bobby dimly recalled that Logan fancied himself something of an expert regarding whiskey, and Bobby had no reason to doubt this and some to believe it was true, so he suspected the selection was a good one. There were at least six beers on tap, none of them the usual ones found in a bar. There seemed to be an equally varied and extensive selection of other spirits.

"C'mon," Alex said. "Let's go to the back…"

The more Bobby saw of the bar, the more he liked it. It was fairly free of clutter, with only a few photos of police boxing and baseball leagues showing the owners' ties with the NYPD. The booths were full, and several people stood at the bar. Bobby recognized several cops, but none of them regarded him with any hostility. The few who seemed to recognize him gave him friendly nods.

"Alex Eames!" The small crowd around the bar parted enough to allow the bartender to reach across the highly polished wood to shake Alex's hand. He was about sixty, Bobby guessed, but a good sixty. His grey hair was thick, and, if he had been a cop, as Bobby suspected, he looked as if he could still walk a beat.

"Hey, Joe," Alex said warmly as she grasped the man's hand. "Looks like things are going well."

Bobby hovered behind Alex. He never knew what he should do in these situations, and he inevitably either charged ahead like an elephant or hung back like an awkward shadow, giving the impression he was an idiot or a snob.

"Things are good," Joe said genially. "But I have to say that having a detective from the Major Case Squad really lifts the level of our customers."

"Detectives," Alex grinned. "Joe…Meet my partner Bobby Goren. Bobby…Joe Mantello…Former NYPD sergeant…Middleweight Police League Boxing Champ three years in a row…And maker of the finest margaritas this side of the Mexican border."

"Goren." Mantello extended a large hand across the bar. "Logan has said great things about you." The older man's grip was worthy of an ex-boxer. "And anyone who can handle Alex Eames as a partner must be a good and tough guy."

"That…That's high praise," Bobby said. "But…It's really more of a case of Alex handling me."

Joe grinned, Alex smiled, and Bobby felt enormously relieved that he'd said the right thing.

"You want one of those margaritas, Alex?" Joe asked. "And what can I get for you, Bobby?"

"Yea, Joe, I will," Alex said. "And Bobby would like some of your best Scotch."

"On the rocks or straight up?" Joe asked as he turned toward the bottles.

"On the rocks," Bobby said. He watched as Joe moved gracefully behind the bar. "You like bartending…"

"Always have," Joe replied. "Always did it on the side. Helped put two of my kids through college. Truth is…Logan and Munch don't know they're funding my hobby."

"They good partners?" Alex asked.

"Yea…They leave the bar to me…My son Tony…One of those kids I got through college…He's an accountant with a big firm, but says this is a lot more fun…Handles the books. Munch actually has some experience with this. He owned part of place in Baltimore…The only real problem so far is Logan wants to give away too many free drinks." Joe smiled as he handed Bobby and Alex their drinks. "But we've managed to persuade him we need to make some money."

"Logan around?" Alex asked.

Joe nodded. "In the back. That kid that used to be his partner…Wheeler…She's here…Plays some weird stuff on the jukebox, but she's a nice kid. But she can't be as young as she looks."

"If she were as young as she looks," Alex said. "She couldn't come in here." She sipped her drink. "You still have the touch, Joe."

Joe smiled. "Always good to hear."

Bobby started to reach for his wallet, but Alex moved faster. She handed Joe several bills. "Keep the change," she said. "I'm going to show my partner the rest of the bar."

"Don't let him get hustled by the sharks back there," Joe said. "And don't you do any hustling yourself."

"Only if I'm challenged," Alex answered. "C'mon, Bobby."

She led Bobby past the end of the bar to a small incline. To the left were the restrooms, on the wall to their right was a sign reading, "If you have trouble walking up or down, maybe you should stop." Beyond the incline, the bar opened into a large room. It was more brightly lit than the front room, and Bobby blinked as they entered. Two pool tables graced the left side of the room, and Bobby saw a broken pool cue encased in a plastic frame on the wall next to one of them. There were more tables and booths in the rest of the room. Framed newspapers and photos covered the walls, most dealing with NYPD triumphs and New York City sports victories.

"Bobby Goren!"

Bobby, with some trepidation, turned in the voice's direction. "Oh, no," he thought. "Who…"

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"Fin," he said. "It's been a long time…"

Bobby extended his right hand, but the other detective ignored it in favor of giving a startled Bobby a hug.

"No way you get off with just a handshake," Fin said warmly. "Not the guy who saved my butt and a whole lot of others."

"You saved mine enough times," Bobby said. "Fin…This is my partner Alex Eames. Eames, Odafin Tutualo. We worked together in Narcotics."

Fin and Alex quietly inspected each other as they shook hands.

"Bobby says good things about you," Alex said.

"He said good things about you the few times I've seen him over this…What…Eight years? Anyone who can put up with him that long must be good," Fin said.

"They've been good years, right, Bobby?" Alex smiled.

Bobby stared at her for a moment. "Good," he thought. "She thinks they were mostly good. And it's been eight years, two months, two weeks, and three days…"

"Yea," Bobby said. "Good…Really good…And I'm lucky she's stuck with me."

Alex grinned. "I am not buying you another drink, Goren."

"Bobby Goren buying his own drink." Fin laughed. "This I gotta see."

Bobby stared at his shoes.

"When I worked with him, Bobby was always making these bets about all sorts of things. As long as it wasn't sports, he usually won," Fin said.

"I…I did ok with baseball," Bobby said. "Unless I ran into one of those rabid Yankee fans."

"Watch it," Alex warned. "You know I'm a Yankees fan."

"You're more of a Derek Jeter fan," Bobby said. "And you're scarcely rabid."

They smiled at each other, and Bobby felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. "Happy and comfortable," he thought. "I feel happy and comfortable with Alex…"

He was glad that he came, and he became happier as the evening continued. It was good to see and talk with Fin again, and Bobby was disconcerted to realize that he hadn't responded to several invitations from his former partner.

"I'm sorry, Fin," Bobby said. "Things have been…"

"I know, Man…Don't worry about it," Fin said.

"Thanks…For coming to the funeral…" Bobby ran a hand across the back of his neck. "I can't remember if I sent you a card."

"You did…You did…Although the handwriting didn't look like yours. Somebody give you a hand?"

"Uh…Yea…Eames…She…She helped me a lot…I…I was in a kinda bad way…"

"You looked like somebody'd hit you up the side of the head with a two by four at the funeral," Fin said. "I was kinda hoping maybe you'd found somebody. Although it looks like you've got a great partner and friend in Eames."

"Alex! Goren!" Mike Logan appeared from a corner of the back room. "Good to see you!" Alex didn't resist his bear hug. "So, you got the big guy to come finally?"

"Yea," Alex grinned. "But if you hug him like that, he'll probably turn tail and run."

Logan grinned. Bobby thought he might have had one or two drinks, but Logan had always held his liquor well. He also had the reputation of being a cheerful drinker until he reached the point where he morosely stared into his drink. Since his own stages of inebriation roughly followed the same pattern, Bobby felt reasonably comfortable with Logan in this setting.

"Will a handshake scare you off, Goren?" Logan asked genially.

"Nope." Bobby shook his hand. "Nice place…"

"Yea…Although all I really do is pump money into it and hold court," Logan said. "I don't really do any work around here."

"Not that big a change from Major Case, uh?" Alex asked.

Logan grabbed his chest in mock distress. "You trying to stab me in the heart, Eames? Goren…You gotta protect me from your partner…"

Bobby waved his hand. "You're on your own, Logan."

Bobby Goren rarely felt comfortable in any crowd. He usually felt as if he was studying some strange tribe, or, worse, that a strange tribe was studying him. Even after he performed an extensive study of a tribe, he rarely felt part of it. He sensed that all of the tribe's members waited for him to betray himself, for him to demonstrate that he didn't know the right handshake, or costume, or secret word. And Bobby Goren expected that at some point he'd make that mistake. He'd never felt completely part of the NYPD, in spite of graduating in the top twenty of his Academy class (his high grades in the academic work and his observation kills making up for his poor marksmanship and his insubordination); his excellent record in Narcotics; and his Medal of Honor. There was a brief period where he thought he might have become a member of the Blue Tribe when Captain Deakins invited Bobby and Alex to several events where the Brass appeared in full and sparkling regalia, and when Alex dragged him to some other, less formal functions. But that disappeared with his suspension and that dead rat in his desk.

But he felt comfortable in this bar. Fin introduced him to his captain, Don Cragen. "Don't worry," Fin told Bobby. "He's got less use for the Brass than us." Fin also identified a tall, gracefully moving and elegantly dressed black man that Logan warmly greeted. "Ed Greene," Fin said. "Good cop…Just retired."

"Not entirely his idea?" Bobby asked.

"No," Fin said. "Lots of guys like that in here."

Bobby moved farther and farther back as the evening progressed and the crowd grew. One of her brothers appeared to speak with Alex. There was a rustle in the crowd near the entrance, and Bobby saw his former captain appear. As Deakins shook hands, Logan climbed up on one end of the bar. He rang the bell hanging over the bottles there. When the crowd settled to a dull roar, he announced, "Ok…You know my partners have told me I can't give out free drinks…"

Boos and catcalls greeted this statement.

Logan calmed the crowd. "But…But they've agreed to let me give free drinks to one person tonight. And for tonight, that person is Jimmy Deakins."

"That might mean something," Deakins called to Logan. "If you didn't know I'll just be drinking coffee tonight."

These words produced another chorus of catcalls and boos.

"All right…All right…" Logan said. "I bestow upon Jimmy Deakins the right to transfer his free drinks to anyone here."

Deakins laughed and raised his coffee cup to Logan. "Thanks for the pressure, Logan. But…I do have a choice…Although it may wind up costing you a lot. He certainly looks like he could drink a lot…But he's a great cop…Smartest detective I've ever known…And one of the most honest guys on the force…"

Along with most of the crowd, Bobby looked around the bar for this paragon of virtue.

"Now…I seriously considered Alex Eames," Deakins continued.

There were cheers and applause, with Bobby the most enthusiastic in the crowd.

"But," Deakins said. "She's not that big. And I'm not going to let you off that easy, Logan."

Alex stood with her hands on her hips. "I'll have you know that I can out drink most of the guys here."

Deakins retreated. "Well…Maybe I didn't want to bankrupt Logan and his partners."

"C'mon, Jimmy," a voice shouted from the back. "You gotta make up your mind."

Deakins smiled. "All right then." He tipped his mug towards Bobby. "Detective First Grade Robert Goren."

Bobby was certain he'd heard wrong. He stared in shock at his former captain. Thoughts raced through his head. Deakins knew about his suspension—Bobby had taken a couple of jobs during that time for the company where Deakins had landed after his forced retirement. Deakins had even offered Bobby a full time job. Bobby had a good idea that Deakins had something to do with Alex's eventual forgiveness of his undercover work, and he was enormously grateful that Deakins had helped to save his friendship and partnership with Alex. He knew Deakins valued his work; he sensed that Deakins might value him as a man. This open gesture of support in the middle of a crowd of cops, some of whom might agree with whoever left that rat in his desk, stunned Bobby. His eyes caught Deakins', and Bobby fought a lump forming in his throat. He turned his head and saw that Alex seemed to be trying to wipe away something in her eyes.

"All right! 'Bout time somebody recognized the guy who keeps Major Case's solve rate the best in the Department!" Bobby recognized the voice as belonging to a veteran Major Case detective who consistently treated Alex and Bobby very well. He became uncomfortably aware that every eye in the room was on him.

"Eames…Eames has a lot…Much more than I do…To do with that," Bobby stammered.

"Shut up, Goren," Alex laughed. "And start drinking that expensive Scotch you like so much."

John Munch had hovered around the bar's back room like a funeral director at a wake since Bobby and Alex had entered. "Great," he muttered darkly. "This is coming out of your profits, Logan…If we ever have any profits…"

Logan had already pulled out a bottle. "Quiet, Munch. This is good PR." He smiled at Bobby. "This is our best Scotch, Goren. Acceptable?"

Bobby moved up to the bar and reached for the bottle. He carefully examined the bottle and finally nodded in approval. He returned the bottle to Logan. "That is a very good Scotch," Bobby said solemnly. "It's made by this process where…"

"Oh, no!" Alex laughed. "Just drink it, Goren…Don't give us its history."

Bobby joined in the laughter and accepted a shot glass from Logan. It was excellent, creating wonderful sensations on his tongue and warming his body as it flowed down his throat. Bobby held up the glass. "Oh, that's good…That's great, Logan…Great…"

"How's that for an endorsement?" Logan asked the crowd. "Now some of you try this good stuff. And we'll have Goren tell you its history as a bonus…"

"Or you can pay him to shut up," Alex laughed. "Although he's pretty uncorruptible."

There were several approving comments and rounds of applause. "So," Bobby thought. "This is what it feels like to be part of a group…To be one of the guys…"

He sat happily. In spite of the promise of the free and very good liquor, Bobby drank slowly and sparingly. He'd resolved to cut back on his alcohol consumption after he returned from his suspension, but a greater reason for his care was that he wanted to remain sober enough to enjoy this experience of being part of these good cops and former cops. Alex was having a good time, as good as Bobby could remember.

"I'm glad I came," he thought. "I really am…I'm glad I let her talk me into this…Shoulda learned by now that Alex's ideas are the best."

A hand touched his shoulder, and Bobby turned to face Jimmy Deakins. "I hope you're enjoying that Scotch."

"I am. Thank you, Sir. And…And…For the kind words…Especially considering all the trouble I gave you…"

"You and Alex made me look very good…A lot more than any trouble you gave me," Deakins said. "And the trouble you gave me was the good kind. I never had to worry about you getting too rough with a suspect or messing with evidence. You're a good cop, Bobby."

Bobby's head felt fuzzy, and he wasn't sure if it was the result of Deakins' words or the Scotch he'd consumed. "We miss you too, Sir," he said, and felt very self conscious.

"Just give it time," Deakins said. "Remember…It took me a year to figure you out…Or at least figure you out when Alex translated."

Bobby watched as Alex shared a laugh with several detectives. "She's great at that," he said. "But…Ross and I…We seem to be speaking such different languages that even she's having trouble."

"You've rarely said that much about troubles at work," Deakins said.

"I…I…" Bobby's face reddened. "I haven't drunk this much for a while."

"C'mon." Deakins lightly rested his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Let's sit down…Even former

captains have some privileges. I'll get us some seats."

Bobby found himself sitting in a dark, relatively quiet booth. A glass of iced tea appeared before him, and he took a long drink of it.

"Thank you, Sir," he said. "I think I'll stick with this for the rest of the evening."

Deakins settled across from him. "That might be a very good idea, especially since Alex will need some help getting home."

Bobby turned and saw Alex laughing among a group of cops.

"She hasn't laughed like that for a long time," he said wistfully. "Of course, she hasn't had much to laugh about lately."

"I've heard," Deakins said sympathetically. "And that isn't your fault."

Bobby stared at the table. "That's debatable…"

"Hell, Bobby…I'm responsible for some of it," Deakins said. "I got the two of you on the radar of some of the Brass." He studied Bobby. "I never did really thank you and Alex for what you did…And tried to do…For me…"

"Uh…We…Especially me…Didn't do much…All you had to do for us…Especially me…It…wasn't much…I wonder if it really helped…"

"It helped me,"Deakins said firmly. "I had proof that I was a good cop…From two people who mattered. My wife…My daughters…Know I'm a good man and a good cop…The NYPD…Certainly the people who framed me…Know the truth and have to live with it."

"But…But you still had to leave," Bobby said. "And if you hadn't defended and protected me so often, maybe the Brass would've given you a break…"

"Bobby…It was time…It was just the spark…You know that I told you that you and Alex saved my soul….I'd reached a point where I couldn't keep my soul and play politics. You and Alex made it possible for me to leave with my good name. That means a great deal."

Bobby's head hurt. He couldn't understand his former captain's praise and gratitude.

"I do feel bad about Logan," Deakins continued. "I hoped he might be able to stick it out."

"Eames knows a lot more about that than I do," Bobby said. "It was a nasty case. The ADA who was behind it all finally resigned. Logan was one of the casualties, but I think there were a lot of things leading up to it. The case was the final straw."

"I wonder," Deakins said. "What would be the final straw for you? Alex has so many ties to the Department. But you…"

"I…For all the trouble…It's a great job…."

Deakins studied Bobby carefully, and Bobby remembered that his former captain was once a very good detective.

"You know," Deakins said. "I'm not your superior officer any more. The reason why you stay…It certainly doesn't matter to me now…And it never really did…"

"Oh, no," Bobby thought. "He knows…If he knows, other people must know…"

"Bobby," Deakins said gently. "I can hear you thinking over here. Calm down."

Bobby took a deep breath.

"You used to not care about what anyone…Especially the Brass…Thought," Deakins continued.

"That…That was before…Before it made it hard for me…Hard for Eames…"

"You never held her back," Deakins said forcefully. "Alex never wanted to be part of the Brass…I knew her before you came to Major Case…She could've gone on a route that would've placed her on the fast track to at least a captaincy…She didn't take it." Deakins smiled. "You remember when I offered her that spot on the task force and she didn't take it? Said she didn't take the job to get noticed."

"I wonder if I've gotten her noticed in the wrong way," Bobby muttered.

"Look," Deakins said patiently. "One of the big problems with the NYPD is that if you're good you're going to get noticed…And sometimes by people who don't want anyone to succeed. Alex would've gotten noticed without you. She's too good of a cop and a person…"

"But…I…I haven't helped her…"

"Bobby…If we're spreading guilt around, I'm the one who put targets on your backs," Deakins said.

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. He wished he'd either drunk more or not so much.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Deakins said. "I didn't mean to give you a headache. But remember what I said to you and Alex when I left. What I needed to know was that I was good with my good detective. If it came down to the Brass' approval or yours, I knew whose I wanted."

There was a commotion near the back room's entry, and Bobby and Deakins looked up to see Danny Ross making his way down the ramp.

"Hold it! Hold it," Logan cried as he scrambled up on the top of the bar. "We've got another first time visitor to this fine establishment."

Bobby smiled slightly as Ross blinked in surprise.

"Now," Logan continued. "I have no problem in allowing Captain Danny Ross in here…Even in this sacred back room…But I think we should have some other opinions. Detective Megan Wheeler…What do you think?"

Wheeler briefly looked like a deer caught in headlights, but recovered. "Oh, I have no problems in letting him in. And I'd like to point out I've known him a lot longer than nearly anyone else here."

"All right," Logan said. "Alex Eames…What do you say?"

"I say let him in," she grinned. "Make him suffer like the rest of us."

Ross was becoming more comfortable, and he smiled at the applause and cheers that followed Alex's comments.

"All right then." Logan looked around the room and saw Bobby huddled in the booth. "Detective First Class Robert Goren…What do you say?"

Silence followed. Bobby and Ross' eyes met. Alex began thinking of ways to slowly disembowel Mike Logan. Deakins wondered why Logan had never learned the art of leaving things well enough alone.

"Hey," Bobby finally said. "I owe the guy enough. And I've learned to agree with my partner. Although after he's been here awhile I'm not sure he'll be happy about it. Let him in…And give him the best of whatever he wants, Logan, and put it on my tab."

"That would be more impressive, Goren," Ross said after a moment. "If I didn't know you're getting free drinks tonight. But thank you."

"Gracefully done," Deakins whispered to Bobby.

Bobby shrugged. "I do owe him…And things are getting better…"

"Well, I'm going to try to rescue him," Deakins said. "Take care, Bobby. Hang in there. You're a good cop."

Bobby watched his former captain disappear into the crowd. He recognized most of the people in the room. Fin was talking with a slender, intense looking man with a burr haircut and sharp features. Alex, a goofy smile on her face spoke with another SVU detective, Olivia Benson. Alex had introduced him to Benson at some police function, and her and Alex's presences had considerably livened the proceedings.

"I…I like these people," Bobby thought. "Maybe Deakins is right…"

He took a deep breath. He felt a desperate need for fresh air to clear his head. He stood slowly and carefully and began to make his way through the crowd. As he moved through the swarm of people, several people slapped his back and said things like "Good luck," and "Good to see you," and "Thanks for the drinks." Bobby, not familiar with such good attention, nodded his head, smiled awkwardly, and mumbled "Thank you," and "You're welcome." He shuffled to the front door and had just reached it when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked down at Alex's face.

"Where you going?" she asked, slurring the words slightly.

"Just need some air," he answered. "That's all…Really…I'm having a good time, Eames. Thank you."

She examined him. "You're not trying to sneak away?"

"Nope." He placed his right hand over his heart. "I swear. I'll be right back."

"Ok," Alex conceded. "But remember…I'm a Major Case Detective. And there's a lot of other good detectives in this place. We will find you."

"Understood…"

Alex stepped aside, and Bobby reached for the door handle. "Come back soon," she said. "Remember that you're my ride."

Bobby nodded, and walked out into the cool night air. He walked up the steps and looked up at the sky.

"Maybe," he thought. "Maybe…"

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Bobby walked halfway up the stairs and leaned against the brick wall. He took a deep breath of the cool, clear air. The air was wonderfully sharp and fresh after the heat of the bar, and it swept away some of the fog in his mind. He wasn't sure how much of that fog came from the alcohol he'd consumed or from the emotional storm in his head. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to quell an urge for a cigarette. "Smokes and booze," he thought. "Bad habits attract each other." He stared at the sky.

A commotion at the bar's entrance brought Bobby back to reality. He saw three men stumble through the door, followed by an angry Mike Logan and another man he recognized as Elliott Stabler from SVU. As angry as Logan looked, Stabler looked worse, almost ferocious. Bobby remembered that Stabler had a reputation for a bad temper. Bobby straightened.

"Hey," one of the three men shouted. "I thought cops were supposed to be welcome in this bar…"

"Not ignorant cops like you!" Logan shouted back.

"What's with you, Logan?" another member of the trio, one with messy dirty blonde hair said. "I can understand Stabler being soft because he's been with the sex crimes unit too long."

Stable, his blue eyes turning to ice, shoved the blonde man against the wall.

Bobby stepped down towards the group. He kept one eye on the two men Logan was trying to control and the other on two men who'd followed Logan and Stabler out of the bar. Bobby sensed that the two weren't on the side of his former squad mate. Bobby moved as quickly and quietly as he could to step between Logan's back and the new arrivals.

"Ok here, Logan?" Bobby asked in a controlled voice. It was designed to not only let Logan and Stabler know about Bobby's presence, but warn them and anyone else around of potential trouble. The two men standing just beyond the door hesitated as Bobby drew himself up to his full height. Bobby was glad he'd decided to wait a couple of days before getting a shave and a haircut. He saw the two men standing in front of Logan freeze, and the eyes of the man in Stabler's grip widened in fear.

Logan glanced back at Bobby, saw the two extra men, and turned back to the face the other two men. "Thanks, Goren," he said. "We're just encouraging these guys to go home. I don't think this is their kind of place."

"If you've got whack jobs like Goren here, I don't think it's a place for good cops," one of the guys in the doorway said.

Bobby tried not to react. The odds were still five to three, and he didn't want anyone to know the words had hit their target. Bobby felt almost exactly the way he did when he was eleven and facing what seemed to be every boy in the sixth grade making fun of his mother. That incident ended with Bobby holding an ice pack to his face, sitting in the principal's office, and trying not to cry. Bobby had a sinking feeling that this incident was going to end just as badly.

Stabler's eyes continued to bore holes in the man he jammed against the wall. "If Bobby Goren is your idea of a whack job," he said tightly. "Then there should be more whack jobs in the department."

"Like you, Stabler?" The other man in the doorway stepped closer to Logan, and Bobby moved to block him. "Stabler…That's some name for the least stable cop on the beat."

Logan kept his yes on the two men he faced. "Stabler at least has the brains not to blame a victim…Especially a fifteen year old…"

Rage rose in Bobby.

"Yea…I bet he was fifteen…" the man Stabler held sneered. "Those fags…"

Stabler jammed the man harder against the wall. The men facing Bobby and Logan moved forward. Bobby sensed that both Stabler and Logan were nearing the end of their patience, but he also saw doubt in the eyes of the two men he faced.

"You two didn't know what this argument was about, did you?" Bobby asked calmly. "It's not about who belongs in the bar…But what these other guys think about victims…"

"Damn, Grif," one of the men facing Bobby said. "Are you still an ignorant SOB? For God's sake, I've got two boys of my own at home."

"And the first murder case I handled was a thirteen year old boy murdered by his uncle who was trying to keep him quiet about the fact the creep had been molesting him since he was eight," the man's companion said. "Damn…Grif…I knew you could be stupid, but that stupid? And cruel?"

Tension seeped from the air.

"C'mon," Grif said, either too stupid or too drunk to leave things alone. "You know what these kids are like."

"You seem to know all about it," Bobby said, speaking before either Logan or Stabler exploded. "I don't know you…I'm pretty sure I don't want to know you…But it's pretty clear you don't have Detective Stabler's experience and knowledge…Or that of these two cops…"

"Hey," one of the men facing Logan said. "Don't put this on Grif…"

Bobby turned towards Logan. He was confident that the two men near him were no longer a threat. "And the two of you, where did you get your expertise in dealing with victims?"

One of the two men in the doorway turned. "I worked Vice for a while too," he said as he started to walk away.

"Then you know," Grif began.

"What I know," the man continued. "Is that the working girls…and the boys…were usually victims. You're an ignorant jerk, Grif. I just realized how much of one you are. You and your friends are on your own."

The two cops walked up the steps leading to the street and disappeared. Bobby, the weight on his chest a little less heavy, turned to face the three men Logan and Stabler held at bay. As he expected, now that the odds were even, the trio was far less belligerent.

"Now," Logan said quietly but ominously. "I think you guys should follow those cops and get out of here."

Stabler released Grif and stepped back from him. "Yea…Go find a bar with more ignorant jerks…"

Bobby stepped back as the three men skulked away. One of them muttered something about "whack jobs", and Bobby tried to pretend he hadn't heard.

"Hey," Logan said. "This "whack job"…" Logan nodded in Bobby's direction. "Has one of the best solve rates in the department. He's saved more civilian and cops' lives than the three of you have drunk beer. And he has a Medal of Honor…"

One of the three men's heads jerked up, and Stabler's eyes widened in surprise and admiration. Bobby reddened and stared at his feet.

"If he's a "whack job"," Logan continued. "We should have more like him." Logan stepped closer to Bobby. "Bobby Goren…And good cops like him…Are always welcome at this bar. You guys ever become good cops, you'll be welcome too."

Stabler still stood menacingly close to Grif, who appeared increasingly confused and disturbed by the turn of events.

"C'mon, Stabler," Logan said. "Let 'em go. They're not worth the trouble."

Stabler stepped away, and the three men scuttled up the steps like rats abandoning a ship.

"A few weeks with SVU would be good for those guys," Stabler said.

"I doubt," Bobby said quietly. "Any of them would be tough or good enough to handle any time with SVU."

"Thanks for showing up, Goren," Logan said. "Three to two we might've handled. But five to two…Even I'm not that dumb…"

"I wasn't too crazy about the five to three either," Bobby said.

"Sorry about that," Stabler said. "I saw red and got us all in a bad situation…It's just…"

"Guys like Clyde Griffin," Logan said. "Idiots and jerks. Never been out of the bag. Probably never wants out of it. He's just taking up space until he can retire. Although I doubt his liver will last long enough for him to do that. Kind of guy makes it hell for the rest of us. Or maybe, I should say the rest of you, since I'm among the relaxed and retired now."

"I…I don't understand cops like that," Bobby said.

"Yea…They seem to take the job to be big tough guys," Logan said. "Of course you don't understand them, Goren. You're one of the good guys. And Stabler."

"And just how are you so sure about that, Logan?" Stabler asked genially.

"Oh, experience," Logan said.

"Uh…Listen…Thanks, Goren," Stabler said. "The odds weren't good for us…I didn't realize those guys had followed us…"

"Not a problem." Bobby guessed that Stabler was trying to reconcile the rumors he'd heard about Bobby with the man who'd just talked his way out of a confrontation with five angry and probably drunken men.

"He's good at getting out of those kinda things," Logan said admiringly. "This wasn't nearly as bad as the thing he got out of in Brooklyn…"

Stabler looked interested, but Bobby shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.

"C'mon," Logan said. "Let's go back in, and I'll tell Stabler about how Bobby Goren took on and disarmed four dirty prison guards with just his head and his mouth."

"It…It wasn't that big a deal," Bobby mumbled.

"Not that big a deal? Just saved two people's lives…And one of them was mine," Logan declared. "C'mon, Stabler…"

"You coming, Goren?" Stabler asked as he and Logan moved toward the bar's door.

"I…Uh…Thanks…But…I could use the air…" Bobby had familiar sense that he was a bull stumbling around a china shop.

"Hey…Goren…It's ok…" Logan grinned at Bobby. "You still have free drinks when you come back in…And don't go anywhere or Eames'll have your butt…And mine."

Bobby watched Logan and Stabler go into the bar. He felt the strange but familiar combination of hypersensitivity and peace that followed confrontations like the one he'd just experienced. He wondered if he'd be able to sleep at all tonight, if every sound would become a huge roar, or if he'd fall into a deep, dreamless sleep that would leave him as exhausted as if he hadn't had any sleep at all. He stared up at the sky.

"I'm nearly fifty years old," Bobby thought. "And I still can't figure out where I belong…Or if I belong anywhere…" He heard the crowd's roar as the bar's door opened, and he turned. He feared facing another cop with a chip on his shoulder, but he was almost as afraid of facing one offering him praise.

"So," Alex smiled up at him. "You're managing to stay out of trouble…"

"Uh…Yea…"

Alex frowned. She was slightly the better or worse for drink, but she still sensed Bobby's unease. She walked carefully up the steps.

"You ok there?" Bobby asked, ready to help her.

"Yea…Just need to watch my steps…You'll get me home, right?" She leaned against Bobby, and he smelled a pleasant combination of lavender and rum.

"People were wondering where you were…And they just weren't looking for a drink." Alex smiled. She took Bobby's right arm and pulled it around her. "It's a little cold," she said and snuggled close to him.

There was a growing storm in Bobby's head. "Uh…Eames…We're in a public place…I'm not sure…"

"Oh…Let's give them something to talk about…They do anyway…I'm not going to freeze just because of a bunch of gossips…"

"Eames…You've worked so hard…To get and keep a professional image…To get this far…And if anyone saw you…Us…Like this…"

"If they have any brains, they'll think I found a great way to keep warm," Alex answered. "But if you're worried, let's go back in. I promise I'll move on to soda or iced tea. But I would like to hang around a bit. I'm having a really good time. And…I thought you were too…"

"I…I was…Am…I…I just…I think too much…" Bobby thought this was the simplest explanation for everything that had happened. And there was a lot of truth in it.

Alex gently slipped from his arm. "Did somebody say something to you?"

"Yea," Bobby admitted. "But a lot more people…good people…have been saying really good things to me."

Alex frowned when Bobby confirmed her fears, but she smiled when he mentioned the "good people" and the "good things". "But you being you," she said thoughtfully. "You concentrated on the bad."

"You know, even with a few drinks in you, you think really well," Bobby said.

"Well, you know you should consider the sources of all those comments," Alex said.

"Yea," Bobby said after a beat. "I should…" He wrapped his arm around her. "Let's go back in…That is…If you don't mind being seen with me…"

"The only other cops I want to be seen with are in this bar," Alex said. "And none of them come close to you…"

"Ok…"

They walked into the bar with his arm around her shoulder and her arm around his middle.

END


End file.
